Ever since middle school, that genius of hers has quickly outshone everyone; the teachers failed to impart anything meaningful to her, and those kids failed to keep up or have the right to deem themselves her equal. Praise was easily given, rewards collected, respect given as freely as water flows. Then she met her, this thing called Mara, an anomaly in the script, an obstacle she couldn't predict or overcome.
Then high school came, and she was still on top, still outclassing her in every way, from pure intellect to physical talent. Hell, she was somehow more attractive than her and claimed she doesn't use make-up. I befriended her, hoping to find the chinks in her armor, an achilles heel, but what I found was that this monster wasn't just perfect; she came from a legacy that dwarfed most nobles.
The closer to her I was, the more infuriated I was; all of this was supposed to be mine, and all I could think about for years. The talent, the respect, the resources, all of it, and she squandered it by helping the weak and the poor, as if it would make a difference in their lives. The mere thought of it sickened me to my core, that with all that power and ability, she would rather roll in the mud with the less fortunate.
No matter, college is almost over, and she and that weirdo seem to be getting along well, I'll strike when they least expect it, take it all, and show her why the powerless have no rights. Or so I thought. Here I am months later, holding my godson while they dropped out of college as disgraces. I got back some of the things I wanted most in the world, but I didn't earn any of it; that bitch gave up and decided to live a quiet life.
No matter, she was researching something that would help purify mana and increase the growth rate for mages thousands of times over. She's still looking into it, and once it's complete, I'll make my move and take everything. But the problems never end, my moron of a husband, who couldn't help but experiment on the kid, damaged his mana core. Now he barely has enough mana to survive, and the doctor estimates he has eight years before his core fails and he dies. Poor Mara was devastated, and I was furious that the dumbass ruined my plans. After punishing him, I had no choice but to wait till the kid recovered.
[TWO YEARS LATER]
Either out of spite or luck, the kid survived and made it to two years old, but since I don't believe in luck, I paid someone to check the kid out. And what I learned shocked me, the kid was passively refining mana. This was a skill most struggled with today, hell, to go to the end, you needed to have this skill mastered. And here was her brat doing so passively and unconsciously, which means she must have finished her research, which explains why she's been so withdrawn.
Good thing I wasn't just wasting time, already prepped a plan, and now I have the perfect moment since her husband isn't here anymore. Poor bastard became another sacrifice to the end, and without him, this will be much easier with no one to heal her. Now I need a place to ambush her, one with casualties so she can't just run recklessly if I miss the first shot. Now that I think about it, there was always that city she went to for herbs and rare materials, a place filled with nothing but trash weaklings who couldn't help her fight back, perfect.
[SIX MONTHS LATER]
Not perfect, so not perfect, a major trading hub destroyed with thousands in casualties, and the only good news is that there was no one left alive to identify me. Bad news, even after we tore her body and memories apart, there was nothing for us other than re-engineering some of her physical techniques she used to enhance said body. Everything else she had was gone in the wind, and we had no clue where to look. Bright side, at least my husband had a new test subject to experiment with when it came time to enhance our kids later. As for the brat, he didn't cry or react much to his surroundings; it felt like he was a statue just lying there in his crib observing us.
Well no use dwelling on it since the event already got covered up something about a meteor, time to make a phone call " Alphonse. Its me. Get ready to move the test subjects the SAINT squad is moving again."